Broken things, steady friends

Dear you,

My gig website is not functioning.  When attempting to download a writing submission, I get the spinning “processing” sign that goes on and on and on.  If I finally receive a document to work with after enduring the spin cycle, I hit another wall.  When I complete the writing review that takes at least thirty minutes, I cannot submit the work.  More spinning processing signs. Wasted time and wasted instruction, lost in the matrix.

Is it the fault of my internet service provider?  Is it the fault of my strangely haunted laptop?  Is it just faulty me, going through a phase of failed “processing”?

The source of glitching is irrelevant.  I just cannot do this anymore, rely on broken things for work or information.  For every problem, there is a solution, right?  Not in this case.  I have danced on this broken glass for months now and I surrender.

And as I type, just now, another thing broke. My Mediacom cable died. The sign this time is a black screen with a box informing me of a “scrambled channel or weak signal”.  So much for my beloved MSNBC background news stream.  Solution for this problem?  Nothing I can do in this case either.  Out of my hands.  I surrender again.

Carrying on, I turn on something that (for now) is reliable, the radio voices of NPR.  I am hearing updates about the Olympics.  I am hearing Wall Street news.  I am hearing political chat.  And none of this is glitching.  The only way this connection can be broken is if the power goes out.  And even that won’t matter.  This radio is battery powered too, part of an old school CD player/radio device.  It’s adorable.  And probably impossible to replace.

Carrying on considering late evening entertainment, I can turn on another reliable machine.  The DVD player.  If the cable is still down, I can pop in a classic like Sex in the City.  Which I have seen 5,678 times but whatever.  Sure, I could stream something on the Smart TV laptop connection, but I don’t want to risk possible “processing” annoyance.

And then for later-later, I have these things on my nightstand called library books.  They won’t burn my eyeballs like screen time.  They are physical and operate on their own power.  I can fall asleep on them or drop them on the floor without fear of breakage.  And that power outage thing?  I have a battery-operated camping light, good enough to read by.

I know if my cable is not back on tomorrow or if my gig-website drama continues, I won’t be happy.  I’ll be frustrated because I want those things too.  I just wished the new stuff worked as well as the old stuff.  I am not a Luddite.  I am a glutton for connection, the classic and the cutting edge. But I recall someone in one of those library books assessing that edge.  Something like if you live exclusively on the cutting edge, you are probably going to bleed.

I refuse to bleed over laptop spasms, digital-cable tantrums, or internet crashes (even as I attempt to post this blogette).  I won’t.  It just doesn’t matter.  I have my darling NPR radio, DVD player, and library books. 

Good friends don’t break. 

Invest in those.  And, oh, it's probably wise to get a landline too.

Love,

Joyce